Antilles

Pour yourself a cup for this one: Every Saturday, I trade sleep for strategy, weaving through Brooklyn to Antilles Cafe, where chessboards hum with the rhythm of a community that feels like family. The air smells of fried plantains, pickled peppers, and the quiet tension of a game that’s more than just moves—it’s a lifeline. For years, I’d drifted through life, adrift in the wake of a broken relationship, a cross-country move, and the weight of becoming someone I didn’t recognize. Then, chess found me. At Antilles, the game isn’t just about checkmate. It’s about the grease-stained pieces, the shared…